How the other half lives: Lucy Cavendish doesn't know quite what to
make of her relationship with a handsome young friend

Handsome Friend has made lunch, smoked a roll-up down the garden and gone. I hate it when he smokes rollies as it makes me want to take up smoking again. I stopped ages ago but have been known, once wine has been imbibed, to start again on a 'social’ basis.

The other day I found myself insisting he roll me a cigarette. We’d opened some wine and ended up huddled under the overhang of the greenhouse, puffing away. There was something comical about it, the two of us secreted away like naughty children, rain dripping from the ledge, while the real children made themselves hot chocolate indoors.

It reminded me of The Last New Year’s Eve when my ex and I were doing the same thing, crouching behind the shed door watching the children make popcorn. The corn was flying all over the place and they were running around with open mouths, trying to catch it.

I was about to tell HF this when I realised it was probably a tactless thing to do – and also pointless. He’s told me off about banging on about my past life, saying that, while he understands I need to work it out, he feels that I might be focusing too hard on the process of enlightenment.

'Maybe it’s just … what it is,’ he said the other day when I rang him for help with my crossword.

My friend Cara can barely control her excitement when I tell her all this. 'You stood outside and smoked together?’

'I know,’ I say, hanging my head. 'I’ve got to stop it but …’

'Not that,’ she says. 'He said you should move forwards?’

I nod. 'I am trying. It’s just that I keep going backwards again. I can’t help it. Everything’s changed and I don’t know how it will be or what shape it will take. It’s like learning a new language about my life.’